


Confession

by ColourOuttaSpace



Series: Stories of Del'Kora [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:53:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27504880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColourOuttaSpace/pseuds/ColourOuttaSpace
Summary: It has been years since Reginald Templemount, now Earl of Black Hills, and Emma have shared those days of passions. Years of friendship and casual love has been poisoned for Emma, however, as she bears the guilt of a terrible crime.Now, with Reginald's heir and daughter now off to receive a higher education, the tiefling has decided... it's time to come clean.
Series: Stories of Del'Kora [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010139
Kudos: 2





	Confession

She tapped her finger on her thigh, standing by the embossed oak door. If she wasn’t so nervous, she might have noticed how it had various images detailing the old adventures. Reginald, Breuvial, Marendithias, Sarkany, herself, all battling the forces of darkness, foiling cult machinations, besieging the very castle they stood in now.

But again, she was nervous. Deathly so.

Emma raised her dark red hand to knock. Damn it, stop shaking! Breath in, out. Time to atone, bitch.

She knocked.

“Yes?”

“It’s Emma, Reggy. You mind if I come in?”

A brief pause. The door opened, showing the Earl of Black Hills. Gods, he had gotten old. Emma hadn’t noticed when she was concerned with the safety of his heir, Nona, but tonight of all nights, the tiefling could see the deepened crags of his green skin, the intense amount of white in his beard and temples. The barrel chest had given way to a barrel torso. Not quite ‘rotund’, but his sleeping robe definitely bulged in the middle more than it did a decade ago.

The Earl smiled. “Of course Emma. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Emma nodded, her tail waving lazily behind her as she walked in. The door clicked behind her.

“So, Your Grace, how may I be of service?”

Emma smirked and turned to Reginald.

“It’s literally been decades, Reggy, stop calling me that.”

Reginald’s eyes twinkled as he made for a crystal decanter on a side table. He chuckled, pouring two glasses of whiskey.

“I know. Call it a pet name. Same as ‘Reggy’. No one else calls me that except you.”

Emma took the proffered glass from Reginald, her heart melting at his noble drawl. She glanced around the room. Books. More books. A desk where books were stacked haphazardly. Typical wizard.

Typical him.

Reginald shuffled to an overstuffed chair and sat, grunting.

“Uumf… So, are you missing her too?”

She glanced to the Earl. “What?”

“Nona,” he clarified. “It’s only been two days and already the castle seems too quiet. Sure,” he sipped his whiskey, “I have my daily tasks of making sure the village is safe and the hustle and bustle keeps bustling, but I’m no longer giving lessons and arguing with her.”

Emma smiled, staring into her whiskey. “She is rather spirited. I still have some bruises from the last time we sparred. She cheated and used some rhyme magic to trick me.”

Reginald’s chuckle filled the room. “That’s my girl. I know she’ll give those professors hell.”

“Cheers to that.”

They clinked glasses, and Emma nearly gagged at the fire rolling down her tongue. She grimaced. The Earl pointed and smirked.

“I would think after several decades you would have gotten used to the whiskey we brew here.”

“It’s not Hellrano Brandy, I’ll say that,” she wheezed.

Emma settled into the companion of Reginald’s chair. They sat in silence for a while. Normally, it would have been a comfortable silence, a moment of contentment between old friends. Tonight, however, she couldn’t take pleasure in it. She was stalling, trying to convince herself to forget it. Forget this, keep it secret, you’ve been doing it for the past nine years, you’re living in luxury and with the man you love, just drink the rotgut and-

“Emma, what’s wrong?”

She snapped back. Reginald had leaned over and grabbed her hand.

“What?” the tiefling mumbled.

“Emma, your hands were trembling. And, well…”

He cut off, reaching another hand out to brush a tear from her cheek. She set the glass down, took the hand on her face and nestled into it. She wanted to feel him. Smell him. Take in his being.

One last time.

Emma stood, pushing Reginald’s hands away. She closed her eyes, her back facing the him.

“Reginald… you probably guessed by now I’m leaving.”

A heavy sigh from behind her.

“I reckoned that would be so,” he drawled, “given that you decided not to escort Nona off to Gearne. I was going to ask, but-”

“There’s more.”

She turned back to him, opening her eyes. Reginald began to stroke his beard, his brows furrowed.

“Reginald… nine years ago, when those Platinum Syndicate thugs almost kidnapped Nona.”

“Yes? What about it?”

“That night… I wish I could go back. I wish I could go back and change everything.”

Emma couldn’t stop the tears. They began to stream down her cheeks like snowballs down a white mountain-side. Being the gentleman he was, the Earl immediately stood up, coming over to comfort her.

“Emma, please. You couldn’t have prevented Lucia’s death, and they had Nona at knife point. There’s nothing -”

“But there was!!”

Reginald stopped midway from embracing her. Emma stared into his dark brown eyes, the guilt built over near a decade gnawing at her throat.

“What do you mean?” Reginald whispered.

Emma heaved another sob.

“Reginald… I hated her. For months, she pestered me, nagged me, made sure I knew I had lost you to her. I dreamed at night pushing her off the battlements.”

Reginald’s concern began to leave his face. Now, it morphed to a raging horror.

“Emma…”

“Lucia was unconscious on the floor.”

“Emma, you didn’t-”

“We were alone. No witnesses.”

“What did you do!?”

She shut up at his growl. She hadn’t heard it in a while. She wasn’t scared of it normally. Now, she was terrified.

“Reggy,” she whimpered.

“Say it,” he grated through clenched teeth.

She couldn’t bear to look at him. She looked at his feet as she stammered the words.

“I killed her, Reginald. I took my chance and slit Lucia’s throat, blamed it on th-”

*THWACK*

All she could feel was pain as the half-orc smacked her across the face, the force strong enough to make her tumble to the floor. She barely had time to get up when two hands whipped her around onto her back and pinned her to the floor.

“You bitch!” Reginald roared, spittle flecking onto her face. “Murderer! I brought you into my house, had you tutor my own children - her children - and this is how you repay me?”

“Reginald!” It was hard to see through the tears and the reeling pain.

“Shut up!” He slapped her again, she yelped. “I forgave you of your absence over the years, gave you a position. Hell, I brought you to my bed after her death. Of course,” Reginald got closer, his tusks almost brushing her skin, “that was probably your entire plan, you harlot.”

Emma needed to breathe. She got her hooves onto his chest and pushed him off with a grunt. He growled, rage filling his eyes as he stumbled back. His hands suddenly crackled with magical energy. She could only stand, swaying with pain and grief.

“Reginald-”

“Lord Black Hills, if you please,” he rumbled. “I think we’re not that friendly anymore.”

“Very well… my Lord,” Emma whispered. “You have every right to kill me now. I just didn’t want to hurt your children with-”

“You ripped their mother from them!” Reginald roared, the crackling magic around his hands growing brighter. “You killed Lucia and practically-”

He paused.

“You wanted to replace her.”

Emma gulped more sobs down. Slowly, she nodded.

“Why didn’t you wait?” she whispered.

Reginald bared his tusks, marching closer to the tiefling.

“You have no right to lecture me, blame me for your own transgressions. I’m not the one who murdered a loyal wife, a mother of two babes. I’m not the one who brought her blood-soaked hands to a man’s bed and stained it with cold-blooded sin.”

He thrusted forward. Emma felt the hands on her throat once more. They squeezed hard, she couldn’t breathe.

“I’m not the one who, even after her decade of questing to earn her place, still acted like a petulant, jealous child.”

She grasped at his hands, kicked him in the chest with a hoof, whipped his face with her tail. He wouldn’t loosen his grip! She’d done it. Broken him. Reduced him to his most feral side. The edges of her vision began to fade to black. Her lungs were burning, going to explode. She tried to gasp…

He let go.

She crumpled to the floor, breathing heavily, dizzy from his choke hold. Emma’s body wracked with pain as she caught her breath.

“Go.”

She coughed, looked up. The earl was facing away from her, one fist resting in the palm behind his back.

“Leave.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Pack lightly and leave.”

He turned back, his face a stone edifice of rage.

“I will send a letter and send it to all of the relevant authorities within my family’s reach. They will have orders to kill you on sight if they see you on our lands or even Jezebelle’s turf in Gearne. Step one hoof on our family’s grounds, and your life is forfeit.”

Emma got up, barely able to stand.

“Reginald,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Save you apologies, Your Grace,” he said flatly. “Go before I lose memory of the friendship we once had.”

The tiefling took one more glance into those eyes. She knew they’d be the last time she’d see them.

“Very well, my Lord.”

Emma turned, opened the oaken door, stepped into the hall, and shut it with a resigned thud.


End file.
